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Leonid’s lip twitches. “You’re more interesting than I expected.” He turns toward the camera. “But I think our time today has come to an end. I’m afraid the network could only spare an hour. Why don’t you wave goodbye to the audience before we go off air?” His mouth curls up into a genuine smile. “I’m glad to see that you look especially pretty tonight. It’s fitting. After all, you are the reason your boyfriend—or is it fiancé?—lost the election.”
“Excuse me?” Even knowing he’s been trying to bait us all night, it still ticks me off.
“Surely Alexei showed you the polls.” Leonid looks genuinely puzzled. “Even after your little press conference, he never could make up the lost ground. No one liked his Latvian lover, even if she did prove to be less of a prostitute than people were saying.”
Alexei has been calm and collected the entire meal, but he stands up, his chair shooting back behind him. “You’ll watch your mouth.”
Leonid gestures again and someone shuts off the camera, the little red light blinking out. A flick of his wrist, and the servant bows and backs out of the room. “That was brilliant. With all your chivalrous generosity and forced cheer, I was worried the people might stop rioting and fighting altogether, but that last bit should get them all worked into a frenzy again.”
“You want them rioting?” Alexei frowns.
“Why did you really invite us here?” I ask. “Was it just to gloat?”
“Actually.” Leonid stands too, looking utterly nonchalant. “I think I’ve been pretty patient for the last hour, waiting and waiting for you to assemble your team of friends.” He tosses his head and the doors open.
Boris and Mikhail walk through, followed fairly closely by Mirdza, Grigoriy, and Aleksandr.
“You knew they were here?” I’m so confused. “But—”
“Would you all have come, if I invited you?” Leonid looks utterly calm.
Aleksandr and Grigoriy are looking from one to another, clearly confused.
“I only wish the darling, elusive Kristiana could have joined us. You see, she presents a fairly large problem.”
“Why?” Aleksandr asks. “What do you want with her?”
Leonid shakes his head. “Never mind all that. Let’s celebrate what we’ve been able to accomplish today.” He shoves the cheese and cracker plate closer to me. “I mean, a mere few weeks ago, you would barely eat anything I brought you, and now you’re tossing down crackers and cheese in my home like we’re old friends.”
I clench my hands into fists. “What do you want?”
Leonid holds up his hands. “I have fire power galore, thanks to Mikhail.” He holds out one hand and a flame bursts into life above it. “Fire’s pretty useful, to be sure. It can destroy most anything, if I push it hot enough. People are scared by it. It’s very satisfying.” He closes his hand into a fist and the fire blinks out.
“How do you have that power, precisely?” Alexei asks.
Leonid laughs, but it’s a hard sound. Ugly. “I’m sure you want to know.”
“Baba Yaga already told me,” I say. “She said she gave it to your ancestors. The power you have is connected to the power each of them has.” I gesture.
“She came to talk to you, did she?” Leonid’s nostrils flare. “The witch isn’t very consistent. Not consistent at all.” He shakes his head and holds out his other hand. “I also have the power of electricity, which has completely transformed our world in the last hundred years, wouldn’t you say?” He extends his hand. Crackles of lightning dance around his fingers, and then he flicks his index finger and an arc shoots across the room, frying the video camera.
Wasteful.
Everything about Leonid is wasteful.
“Although I have these powers, Boris and Mikhail still have them as well.” He glances at them and inclines his head.
Boris waves his hand, and sparks fly into the air. The lights flicker.
Mikhail smiles as he shoots a fireball at the tapestry on the wall.
Leonid scowls, balling one hand into a fist and extinguishing the fireball before it strikes the woven scene depicting some kind of war. “But what I do not have that I always wanted is the power to create life. To nourish. To sustain.” He smiles. “So be a real friend and share, will you, Alexei?” He holds out both hands, palms up.
“You need my consent,” Alexei says, realization dawning. “For some reason, you can’t take a power without the one using it allowing you to.” He can’t help his smile. “Which I will never do.”
“Don’t be so sure. Everyone has a price,” Leonid says. “I could make you my Chancellor. You’d be a trusted advisor. I could even give you the Winter Palace back.”
“Not a chance,” Alexei says.
